The Faun's Labyrinth
by Estella May
Summary: Ariana Dumbledore, in the summer of 1899. Complete!


Author's Note/Disclaimer: I wrote this for a screenplay challenge over at omniocular on LJ sometime in the middle of February. My prompt was Pan's Labyrinth, but this takes place entirely within the HP universe, so you can read it without missing anything if you don't mind having that wonderful movie spoiled for you. ;)

Anyways, if you recognize it, I don't own it.

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The Faun's Labyrinth

Life to her is a waking dream, and she always dreams in color. Radiant, vivid red is the shade of her mother's favorite robe. Deep auburn colors her older brother's hair. Yellow and black stretch across warm wool in wriggling stripes on the scarves her brother knits for her when it is cold. Clear blue shines from the great sky-dome outside. Dark gold is what she sees when her mother combs wet hair out of her eyes. Greens of many different hues grow outside, in the garden that she can see but not touch. She likes green the most. She always has.

She knows these things, things that happen together, but not necessarily in sequence. She is good and her mother takes her for a walk in the green, living garden. She smiles and they three smile too. She knows that the three should be four. "Where is Daddy?" she asks them often. "Why is he away?" They look away from her, but she can see another line etch itself across her mother's brow and another invisible weight add itself to her brother's shoulder. She sees, but she does not understand. He is always away on some exciting adventure in the North Sea, they tell her, but he misses them dearly. She hopes he comes back.

She likes her crayons a lot. They smell like lacquer and taste like wax. She thinks she might like glue too, but her mother forbids her from ever touching it. So she contents herself with the crayons, drawing on the walls of her little room, drawing out her colorful dreams of what those fairy tales that her brother reads to her might be like. She is the youngest of three, and she loves fairy tales.

The window ledge in her room is her favorite spot to dream. Her face pressed against the cool glass, she likes to watch the people outside go by. She imagines where they might be going, what they might be doing. The same people might pass by as the garden outside turns from green to white and then back to green again, but they are never the same. Their faces change the same way her mother's does. Their expressions change too, and not always for the better. Faces of an infinite variety can be found outside her window. The village of Godric's Hollow is small, but not too small for Ariana.

She is probably the first to notice the tall, strong youth as he walks into the village, on the little road that leads in from the wild moors. He wears a different sort of face, his clothes are unlike any she has ever seen, and his hair is yellow. He stops near their little gate and drops his green knapsack. He strides confidently up their lane and knocks at the door. Three sharp raps at the door. Aberforth answers. She cannot hear what they say, but she can see white teeth, pale skin, blue eyes, and yellow hair. Aberforth points in the direction of the village and closes the door. The stranger blinks, throws back his head and laughs. He walks away, still laughing merrily while Aberforth tells their mother that the stranger sounded foreign. Ariana wonders if he walked out of a fairy tale.

She loves the little long-legged grasshoppers that flit about in the garden. They preen on flowers of pure snow and nap on stalks of emerald jade, blending in to all eyes except Ariana's. Once in a while, they land on the windowsill outside and seem to wave to her. She is delighted and thinks that they might love her too.

She is not the first to discover the grasshopper that finally makes it inside. It lands first in Albus's study, a place where she is forbidden from entering. He flicks it into Aberforth's room, where his brother raises a commotion and chases it out into the kitchen, where she saves it from certain death under her mother's spatula. She is distraught, and her mother is worried. Calm down, Ariana, please calm down, she says. Ariana calms down, but she wants to take the grasshopper outside into the garden. Her mother nods, and she runs outside, laughing as merrily as the stranger.

The air outside is warm and heavy. She breathes it in. The greenery is thick with flowers in bloom. The little grasshopper struggles inside her grasp, and she releases it. Swiftly, it lands on a snow-white bud and watches her. She laughs, and asks it a question. "Are you a fairy? You have wings." The grasshopper stretches its legs and nods. "How wonderful," she exclaims. "I've always wanted to meet a fairy." The little fairy stretches again and stands up. It raises a perfectly formed hand and beckons to her. "You want me to come with you?" she asks. The fairy nods and beckons to her once more.

She walks towards it, tentatively at first, and does not notice the shadows of the flowers around her lengthening. The fairy's green eyes are magic, and she feels as light as a feather floating in air. She sits down on the satiny flower bud with the little green fairy, which does not seem so little anymore. "Why have you brought me here?" she wonders aloud. The fairy's laugh tinkles like a silver bell. It takes her by the hand and together they fly down into the dense green labyrinth that is the garden.

They alight on a mound of earth. A reedy flute is playing somewhere. The fairy leads her by the hand through twists and turns of the green maze, until they finally come upon a place where the blue sky seems right above their heads and a curious fellow plays a reed flute on a large, flat stone. He has the arms, chest, and face of a man, and the legs, hooves, and tail of a faun from her storybooks. His eyes are merry and his song even more so.

He finishes his song and walks down to meet her. "I knew you would be a yellow-haired child," he tells her, smiling. Her eyes widen in surprise. "Yes, I loved you once, in another life," he says, answering her unspoken question. He bows to her. "You are the daughter of the king of Faerie, and I am your most humble servant, your highness."

She shakes her head. "You must be mistaken, dear faun," she says to him. "My father is away in the North Sea."

But the faun shakes his head too. "No, you are not born of man," he corrects her. "You are our beloved princess, who we lost many years ago, and your father has missed you so."

She is not very convinced, but she wants to know more. "What is Faerie like?" she asks him. "Is it like the stories?"

The fairy and faun both laugh. "Faerie," says the faun, "is a place where time does not pass. It just simply is. It is a place of such beauty, that to see it would mean madness for a mortal."

"That sounds lovely," she observes. "But how do I know you're telling the truth?"

"Only mortals can tell lies," says the faun. "We tell only the truth. Come back home, your highness, and see it for yourself."

"Would I be able to return here?" she asks.

The faun looks greatly surprised at the question. "I'm afraid not."

"Would my mother and brothers be able to come with me?"

"No," the faun replies. "They are mortal and therefore barred from Faerie."

The decision is an easy one to make. How happy could she be as an immortal princess without her mother and brothers? "I'm very sorry, dear faun," she says, "but I cannot accept. I love my family very dearly."

The faun is very sorrowful, but he bows and acquiesces. "Farewell then, your highness."

Either he is retreating, or she is. The green walls around her shrink, until they are once again no more than plants touching her knees. She feels like a giant, with her head in the clouds.

"Ariana?" her mother calls to her. "Come back inside, please."

The blue sky blushes pale red. The sky in Faerie is always blue. She thinks. She remembers.

The door clicks shut behind her. She picks up a green crayon, and begins drawing the labyrinth-garden on her walls. It is still a nice dream.

Aberforth's hair is a warm shade of auburn, so different from Albus's, yet also so similar. She likes running her fingers through it as he reads her stories, and pulling a few strands out to play with. He shuts the book as he finishes a story about a princess who was wooed by a pig from the north and smiles at her. "At this rate I'll be bald before I graduate from Hogwarts," he says, laughing.

"I'm sorry," she says, and yanks out a few of her own hairs. "You may have some of mine."

Aberforth twines the long golden strands around his little finger. "Thank you, Ariana."

"Do you believe in fairies?" she asks him curiously.

"Sure," he replies. "I've seen them decorating the trees at Hogwarts. Nasty little buggers. One tried to rip my eyebrows off after I pinched its wings…"

"There are fairies in our garden," she says.

Aberforth shrugs. "Better than gnomes, I guess. Mrs. Bagshot has some in her garden. I had to go degnome it last time I trampled over her gardenias."

"I met a faun there too."

He raises an eyebrow. "I've never seen one of those before. I don't think they ex… You sure it wasn't a centaur? No, centaurs don't live on the moors. Are you sure you didn't imagine it?"

"He played a reed flute," she says, reminiscing.

Aberforth looks worried. He tries to hide it with a laugh, but Ariana, so skilled at reading faces, is not deceived. "I saw that foreign fellow again today," he remarks. "He was loitering about in the graveyard. I knew he was up to no good. You can't trust these foreigners."

"He looks a lot like that faun," she observes.

"So he has horns then," Aberforth chuckles.

"No."

"Oh." He presses his mouth into a thin line and studies her face. "Well, let me know if you see the faun again."

"I don't think I shall ever see the faun again," she says, "but I'm not sorry at all."

"That's…interesting."

Ariana gives him a little smile. He will never know what she gave up for him. Aberforth smiles back at her, and she feels perfectly happy.

They have a visitor for dinner. It is a pleasant sort of surprise, since no one outside the family has ever set foot in their house. She wears some green robes and ties a green bow in her yellow hair.

Their guest arrives on their doorstep before the sun sets, a short, chubby boy about Albus's age. He wears a frilly sort of shirt and a lavender suit. He gazes at her brother with open admiration and constantly apologizes to her mother for inconveniencing her and their whole family. Ariana gets the impression that it took a great deal of convincing to bring this dinner about. She likes his rosy cheeks. "Elphias Doge, my lady," he introduces himself to her, conjuring a pretty white flower for her. His watery blue eyes are sincere.

"Ariana," she says and extends a slender white hand to him in the same way her mother does.

His eyes disappear into little slits when he smiles. "Your sister is pretty as a princess," he says to Albus, who nods and agrees. Ariana smiles too, and does not understand why Aberforth is frowning.

Her mother brings out the best china for their guest. There are dishes full of her mother's best cooking, which Elphias praises to the heavens. He praises Albus no less, until she wonders how many times he can use the word "brilliant" before it begins it begins to lose its meaning.

Aberforth probably has the same ideas. He sits across the table and yawns visibly. "That's an interesting sort of suit, is it Muggle?" he asks their guest, after hearing about how his brilliant brother was the most brilliant student at Hogwarts in what is very much regarded as a brilliant century by other very brilliant people.

Elphias blushes a shade not too different from his suit. "Why yes, but I made a few alterations myself."

"It looks quite good on you, don't you think so Ariana?" he says, turning to her.

"Yes," she replies, nodding. "Lavender is your color."

"Aberforth, remember your manners," says their mother.

"Albus, on the other hand, could do with a good bright purple," Aberforth continues, ignoring her. "Lavender would make you look too washed-out. What do you think, Ariana?"

"Plum is better," she says, looking at Elphias's face and thinking what a pretty shade that is.

"Thank you, Ariana," says Albus, quite amused. "I will remember that."

"A _brilliant_ plum, more like," says Aberforth in an offhand voice.

"I hope you haven't been drinking firewhiskey again," says his brother in an equally offhand voice.

Aberforth stabs his fork into his plateful of rabbit and parsley. "What's it to you if I drink firewhiskey or not?" he snaps. "What's it to you if I start up a tavern tomorrow somewhere and start selling firewhiskey?"

"Much more preferable to your other idea of raising goats, I suppose," he says calmly.

"Boys!" their mother exclaims. "Apologize to our guest at once."

"For what?" Aberforth cries, full of indignation.

"Your shocking behavior and abominable rudeness!"

Aberforth stands up and throws his napkin down on the table. "I'm out of here," he declares, and promptly leaves the room. Seconds later, the front door opens and bangs shut. Albus sighs and makes his apologies to his friend before standing up to go after him.

The front door opens and shuts again. Ariana watches her mother struggle to maintain a little bit of grace as she apologizes as well. "I'm so sorry," she says. "We just haven't had any company here for such a long time, and…"

"There's no need to apologize, madam," says Elphias. "I am honored to be allowed into your home and I am sure that tonight was the exception and not the rule."

Her mother nods gratefully. Ariana thinks they all make too much of a fuss over words.

"It is a very great honor, considering," he says. "What with your daughter's condition and Albus's father passing away last year…"

Ariana feels as if someone has just slammed something heavy on her head. "What did you just say?" she asks, jerking her head around to face him.

"Oh dear, have I said something wrong?" Elphias stands up and starts to apologize to her mother.

"Ariana, no, pay no attention to what he said," her mother pleads. "It's not true!"

It starts with an instinctively familiar fluttering in her heart, although she cannot recall it ever happening before. The fluttering starts small, like the beat of a butterfly's wings, but grows as it sends shock waves through her body. It grows into an irregular pounding in her head, and by then it is out of her control. "Daddy is dead?" she asks, adding to the fire. Her hands and limbs are weak, and she feels as if she is sitting on a powder keg.

"No, Ariana, no!" her mother pleads with her, but she can barely hear it above the roar of blood rushing to her head.

The pain comes next, great shooting pains that travel up through her legs. It comes in waves too, merging eventually with the pounding in her heart, a great uncontrollable force that is trying to escape her. She cries out loud, and some of it leaks out and flips the dinner table on its side. Their best china falls onto the flagstone floor, and she cries out again as the sound of the crash pierces her ears. The glass windows explode.

"Elphias, get out of the house at once," her mother orders him. She has cuts on her face and arms, and tears stream out of Ariana's eyes as she realizes that she is the cause of them. The tears travel down her face, burning into her skin.

"But what about you, madam?" he shouts back.

"This is no time to be a gentleman!" She tries to push him out of the door, but he stands firm. She sighs and pulls him down as they both hide behind the kitchen table.

Ariana is barely aware of them anymore. She can hardly think of anything but the pain and hear anything but the crashes and explosions that happen each time she screams. There is another crack and her chair collapses beneath her. She falls down to the ground, onto broken glass and splinters of wood, clutching her head.

The pounding dies down eventually, but the pain remains. She continues screaming, still clutching her head, and the hair she sees before her eyes is not bright yellow but instead yellow caked with red. Her mother brushes away the hair in front of her eyes and asks Ariana to look at her.

Ariana looks up, though her sight is still clouded by pain. The pounding in her head has diminished, but it is still there. Her mother's expression is pained too. She turns around and tells Elphias to get out of the way. "What are you going to do?" he asks in shock.

"I cannot bear to see my daughter in that much pain," she cries. "I have to do it."

"You have to do what? We need to go find Albus! She's dangerous."

Kendra pushes him out of the room and shuts the door. "Ariana," she says, pulling out a wand. "I'm sorry, but I have to do this."

Ariana closes her eyes and screams again as her mother recites a single word. She feels some outside force brush against her forehead, only to be pushed back by the last bit of power that remains in her this night. She muffles her ears against the explosion that ensues. And then, everything goes quiet.

The door slowly creaks open and falls off its hinges. Slow footsteps echo off the floor, walking towards her. A hand touches her shoulder. "Miss Ariana," says Elphias, "are you finished now?"

She nods, and slumps over against the wall. There is a sudden crack, and two people land next to him, out of thin air.

"Oh, no," cries Aberforth. "Not again."

Ariana opens her eyes and sees him run over to where her mother is also slumped against the wall and gather her into his arms. "Mum, wake up, wake up!" He shakes her, but she will not. "What's wrong with her?" he demands.

Albus walks over and places a finger on his mother's neck. "I'm afraid she's passed on," he says quietly. He turns to Elphias, ignoring his brother's wails. "What happened here?"

"I…I'm…so sorry," his friend stammers. "It's all my fault. I was apologizing to your mother after you left and I accidentally let slip to Ariana that your father died last year. Then…you know what happened afterwards."

"Did my mother try to cast a memory charm on Ariana?" asks Albus.

"Yes…yes she did," he replies. "She pushed me out of the room and cast the spell and there was this huge explosion and I ducked for cover and… I'm so sorry, Albus."

Albus looks around at the wreckage. "The Accidental Magic Reversal Squad will be here soon," he says calmly. "We have to make sure our stories are straight. This was nobody's fault. Mother died from a backfiring charm. That's all we say, and it's the truth. We will not mention Ariana. At all."

"What is _wrong_ with you?" shouts Aberforth, still clutching his mother's body. "Mum is _dead_ and all you can think about is Ministry procedures!"

Ariana looks up at her brother. His blue eyes are sad. "We can grieve later," he says. "Right now we have to think about the bigger picture. She wouldn't have wanted Ariana to get sent off to St. Mungo's."

Aberforth opens his mouth to argue, but realizes that he has nothing to say. Ariana finds enough strength to cry out, "I don't want to go…"

"Can you take her to her room and stay with her until the Squad leaves?" Albus asks his brother.

Aberforth nods and gathers her into his arms. He carries her out of the room, and they hear Albus say to his friend, "Well, I suppose our trip is cancelled now."

Her brother washes her hair out in a basin of cloudy, red water. He dabs at the cuts on her skin with an orange paste that smokes and stings. She does not feel it much. Her body is numb, and her mind is too. Outside, there are voices of men and women shouting. Lights shine through the window and Aberforth pulls the curtains shut.

"How many times have you done that?" she asks when he is done and sits down on her window ledge.

"Two or three times," he says, not meeting her eyes. "It was usually Mum who did it, since we were at school and all…" His voice chokes up when he mentions his mother.

"What does a Memory Charm do?"

"It's a charm that makes a person forget a specific memory. It was Albus's idea. He went to Hogwarts all determined to find a way to help you, and he was so sure that he could figure it out. But in the end this was the best option available, according to him anyway."

"But why?" she whispers. "What did I have to forget?"

He ignores the second question. "According to our brother's impeccable logic, if you didn't know then you could be happy. Blissfully ignorant, I called it. But Mum agreed with Albus since he's the _brilliant_ one."

"I don't think I like that word anymore," she says.

Aberforth laughs, seemingly in spite of himself. "I don't either. Go to sleep, Ariana. I'll watch over you."

She closes her eyes, as her brother hums a little lullaby. It is soft, but still manages to drown out the shouting outside.

Mornings in Godric's Hollow are always misty, no matter the season. Ariana wakes up before everyone else, as she always does. She pulls back the curtains and sits by the clouded glass. Briefly, she searches her memory, and finds it still intact. She still remembers her mother being buried in the village cemetery, how she is not allowed to attend, and her brother explaining to her that it's not her fault. He says it in that soft, endearing way which is meant to convince her that he is wise and knows all. She can still hear his words, though they do not seem very convincing.

She is afraid, an emotion that seems foreign to her, though she suspects that it was not always so. Her memories of a happy life are all false, it seems. How long before it happens again, she wonders. The pain is still fresh in her mind, the shooting pains in her limbs. Maybe that is what the little mermaid felt when she danced for the prince, she thinks. She places a finger on the glass and watches as the fog melts away from it, revealing the garden outside. Is her memory of the fairy and faun false too? Maybe it was some happy byproduct of a charm that replaced her true memory of a true event.

How wonderful if it is actually real, she thinks. Maybe she could ask the faun if his offer still stands. She knows from her stories that Faerie is a place where there are no lies or pain. She could be safe there, and her brothers could be safe from her.

The house is still silent as she slips out of her room and opens the front door. She walks out and sits on a little stone bench, looking for any sign of life in the dew-covered garden. It is quiet and still, with not even a breeze troubling the sleeping leaves. She sighs and tries not to give up hope, and suddenly sees a little grasshopper sitting on a nearby leaf, looking at her. She smiles and beckons to it, and it flies to her, landing on her knee.

"Little fairy," she says. "Can you take me to the faun?"

It nods and flies towards the garden, waving for her to follow. She walks forward, and this time she notices how the plants grow taller the more she draws near. The fairy takes her hand and together they fly into a misty, dew-filled world. The garden in the morning is quite different from the one she remembers. Its greens are darker, more muted. Its colors are more subdued.

The faun is lounging on a leaf, still in that same clearing, or so she thinks. He quickly stands up and bows to her. "Your highness," he says, and looks at her. "You've changed quite a bit since last we met."

"Faun," she says, "is it possible still to go to Faerie?"

The faun considers her request thoughtfully, and does not answer.

Her eyes fill with tears. "I understand," she says, and turns to leave.

"Never mind that," says the faun. "Good done with intent merits no reward, evil done without intent deserves no punishment. It is still possible, yes, but your time is quickly running out."

Ariana breathes a little easier. "Please, what must I do?"

The faun holds up three fingers. "You must perform three tasks, and complete them before the summer fades."

"What is the first task?" she asks eagerly.

The faun snaps his fingers and a little drawstring bag falls into his hand. "On the outskirts of the village, there is a great tree that was planted by Godric Gryffindor, a good man who was a friend to our king. It has flourished for a thousand years, but now it is dying. A toad lives beneath its roots and will not let the tree thrive. Your task is to place the three magic stones inside its mouth and retrieve the golden key in its belly."

She takes the stones and thanks him. He wishes her luck, and within the blink of an eye, he disappears and she is standing alone in the middle of the garden. She quickly hangs the pouch around her neck, underneath her nightgown.

"Ariana?"

She hears Albus's voice behind her. She spins around and sees him in his red and gold dressing gown, a steaming mug in his hand and fuzzy white slippers on his feet. "What are you doing out here?" he asks.

She stares at the slippers. "The garden is so lovely in the morning," she says.

"Well, come back inside before anyone sees you," he says, gesturing to her with his free hand.

She is nearly on the steps when someone behind her suddenly exclaims "Good morning!" His voice is a rich tenor and tastes like chocolate and cream.

She turns around, and sees the foreigner that Aberforth had slammed the door on. He is walking up to their gate from the road that leads into town, dressed all in green, with green shorts, short jacket, and a rather funny-looking hat on his long, curly yellow locks.

"Good morning," she says. "How are you today?"

The boy smiles and leans against their wooden gate, showing her his very white, even teeth. "Very well. And you?"

"Quite good. It'll probably be very warm today, and I see you have the foresight to dress accordingly," she observes.

"Thank you," he says, tipping his funny hat. "Allow me to introduce myself. The name's Grindelwald, Gellert Grindelwald. My great-aunt suggested that I should call on you."

"Ah, you're Mrs. Bagshot's great-nephew," says Albus. "I'm sorry we haven't had the chance to meet yet. I'm Albus Dumbledore, and this is my sister Ariana."

"Charmed," says Gellert. "You go to Hogwarts, I see. Gryffindor, by the looks of it."

"No, I just graduated this year."

"Fraulein Ariana then?"

"Ariana doesn't go to Hogwarts," he answers for her, intent on monopolizing the conversation.

"How lucky!" says Gellert, smiling again. "None of us goes to school. I am late of Durmstrang. Visiting your delightful village and staying with my great-aunt this summer."

"This entire summer?"

"Yes, those are my current plans, though they might change. How old are you, Fraulein, if I may ask? You seem full young to be out of school."

The question surprises her. She realizes that she does not actually know how old she is. It is absurd and frightening, but true. She blushes and turns away. Albus notices and answers for her, "Ariana does not sense the passage of time, I think. To her, it just simply is."

She feels suddenly light-headed. Her brother's answer rattles her nerves and she is afraid of being asked more questions that she cannot answer. She clutches at her heart and flees up the stairs. Albus steps aside and lets her through, before bidding goodbye to their new acquaintance. "Do come over for tea sometime, we'd be glad to have you."

She collapses on a chair at the dining room table, across from Aberforth who looks up from his knitting and asks worriedly, "What's wrong? What happened?"

"Could I have some tea?" she replies weakly, hoping beyond hope that this is not the start of another incident. She sips some of the hot tea that Aberforth hands her, and feels slightly better. Her brother still looks worried.

Albus comes in and sits down with a copy of the morning newspaper. Aberforth glares at him for an entire minute before he notices. "Is there something wrong with your eyelids?" he asks. "You seem to have lost the ability to blink."

"What's wrong with Ariana?" Aberforth demands. "Why is she pale like that?"

"Well, maybe we should ask her?"

"We met that foreigner friend of yours, Aberforth," she says, taking another sip of tea.

He snorts. "He's no friend of mine. I don't trust anyone with an accent like that."

Albus raises an eyebrow but remains absorbed in his newspaper.

"He invited Gellert over for tea," says Ariana.

"He invited that no-good character here?" asks Aberforth in complete disbelief.

"Yes, he did," says Albus, putting down his newspaper. "And use your indoor voice please."

"And what are we supposed to do with Ariana when your blond German friend comes? Did you bother to think about that at all?"

Ariana sees her chance and seizes it. "Could I go outside for a little bit when he comes? With Aberforth, of course."

"Of course not!" says Aberforth. "What if something happens out there?"

"I'm sorry Ariana, but he's right," Albus nods in agreement. "You can't go outside. It's too dangerous."

"How old am I, Albus?" she asks.

He has the grace to look a little ashamed. "You're fourteen, and your birthday is April fourteenth."

"I wonder why you haven't done another Memory Charm on me since I managed to kill Mummy," she says. She looks up and sees the pain in his eyes, and quickly looks away again. "It'd be the humane thing to do. You could've told me that she went off to the North Sea to join Daddy. That's where everyone I kill manages to end up, isn't it?"

"Ariana, please stop. You didn't kill him," says Aberforth. "Or Mum. Please, just calm down."

The teacup in front of her explodes. They both duck for cover. Ariana wipes away a few tears and pours herself another cup of tea. They slowly emerge from beneath the table, Albus with a few splashes of tea on his ridiculous dressing gown and Aberforth with a cut on his cheek. They exchange glances, and Albus sighs. "Ariana, I'll make a deal with you," he says grudgingly. "You may go outside with Aberforth, if and only if you keep your temper in check from now on."

She wipes away a few more tears, of joy this time, and runs to kiss him on the cheek. "Thank you, I promise," she says, and she means it.

Ariana soon comes to the conclusion that she cannot remember ever stepping outside their garden fence. It is equally clear to her that she does not know any more of the village than what she sees outside her window, and that the villagers most certainly have never seen her, even though she knows all of them by sight.

She is unhappy, and her brothers are as well. If she does not see the bitterness in her older brother's face, she is reminded of it daily by Aberforth, who mutters about it constantly. Albus is quiet about his thoughts, and spends most of his time locked up in his study, which she knows faces the lane. Their conversation and company must bore him, she knows, and she waits for their promised visitor with no less anticipation. She keeps the magic stones stowed safely away in her pocket, and she plays with them sometimes, the bright copper-colored little things, just to remind herself that they are real.

She takes up drawing again. It seems like a harmless enough activity, and her crayons are chewy as ever. She cannot write like Albus does, but she can draw. She finds that she no longer likes the color red, though the others are still as inviting. She tosses that crayon away.

Their visitor finally comes on a Sunday afternoon, while Aberforth is taking a nap and Albus is busy writing an obscure and boring treatise about something boring and obscure. She sees him walking along the lane, twirling his green hat and smiling to himself. She quickly goes to wake her brother up. They slip out through the back door, and run across a green lawn to a small pebble-strewn path that skirts around the outermost edges of Godric's Hollow.

The air is warm, and the sun on her skin feels delightful. She laughs and runs circles around her brother, who looks apprehensive at first but soon relaxes as they meet no one along the way. There are trees here and there, but none looks like it may be a thousand years old. But she does not let that trouble her. Everything she sees, she sees for the first time, and it is all so beautiful and green.

Aberforth sits down to rest after a while under a rowan tree. Ariana lies down on the green grass nearby, out of breath, staring up at the sky. She laughs, and asks him, "Why do you want to raise goats? Why do you like them?"

"They're simple creatures. They take whatever you throw at them, aren't fussy, and talking about them drives Albus crazy."

"I don't remember seeing him crazy or mad."

"Oh, he feels it but never shows it. He'd rather be all high and mighty, acting disappointed and such. Then he draws satisfaction from watching people feel ashamed and grovel at his feet. I figured him out a long time ago and that act doesn't work on me, anymore."

"Hmm," is all she says to that.

The sun is warm on her face and she feels pleasantly drowsy. A grasshopper lands on her face as she is about to doze off. She blinks and sits up. Aberforth is snoring away under the tree. "You know where the tree is?" she whispers to the little green fairy. It nods to her, and she follows as it flies off away from the path and the village.

Aberforth is out of sight when she finally glimpses the old tree, which resides on its own in a little clearing some ways away from the village. She approaches and touches its dry and almost lifeless branches, and wonders what on earth she is doing. She knows now that the tremors that mark the start of one of her fits come when she is especially scared or upset, and here she is deliberately placing herself in danger. How ironic if she inadvertently kills the tree and buries herself underground with it. But perhaps that is what the task is, to face the danger without fear.

There is a large opening in the tree trunk that leads to an underground tunnel. She sighs and climbs in. The inside of the tree is slippery with mud and teeming with insects. Within minutes, her robes are covered with the muck. She pulls them off as they start to hinder her progress and continues in her shift, the little drawstring bag around her neck.

The air here smells fetid, and the last bits of sunlight soon disappear, replaced by the green iridescence of glowworms. She wonders what sort of thing would actually want to live down here in this stinking tunnel, sucking the life out of the old tree until neither can survive. She soon sees it when the tunnel branches and giant bulbous eyes spy her from within the left-hand branch.

Her breath catches and she feels that first fluttering of fear. She looks away and tries to restrain those emotions. She cannot afford to lose control now, or to fail. How she wishes for some of that control that seems to come so naturally for Albus. It is difficult, too difficult.

_He feels it but never shows it_, Aberforth had said. She muses over that statement in her mind. It seems a reasonable enough compromise. Perhaps if she can deceive others, she can also deceive herself. It feels like a minor epiphany of sorts to her, like finally finding an escape after being lost in an interminable maze.

She removes the bag from around her neck and holds it tightly as she turns to face the giant toad again. It is quietly regarding her with an amused sort of malice in its eyes. Its giant tongue shoots out and captures the glowworms on the tunnel ceiling above her head. She looks it in the eye and declares, "I am not afraid of you."

The tongue shoots out again, catching her on the right side of her face this time. It retracts, leaving her face a sticky, slime-covered mess. She removes the stones from the bag and looks at them, wondering how she is to accomplish her task. In that faint green light, they look almost like the bugs that scurry about on the floor. She picks up a few of the bugs and holds them out, stones and all, to the toad.

It works, like magic. She steps back, flushed with victory as she watches the toad expel all its innards. The golden key glints atop it all. She picks it up and wipes it off. It is a pretty thing. She wonders what it opens.

Her robes are lost somewhere in the muck. She gives up searching and makes her way outside, hoping that Aberforth is not awake yet. The shouts outside quickly convince her that this is not the case. She steps outside into the sunlight, and comes face to face with Gellert, whose eyes widen upon seeing her. She finds that she cannot read the expression on his face.

"Good day sir," she says, making a small curtsey. "I seem to always meet you while in various states of undress."

"You are constantly surprising," says Gellert.

"That's nice," she says. It sounds nice to her. He blinks and offers her his jacket, which she refuses because it is green and therefore should remain unblemished. "Do you like my brother?" she asks. "I hope you do."

"Really?" he asks. "Why?"

"So he can have a friend who isn't boring or likely to wear lavender suits."

"You care very much about him," he most astutely observes.

She nods.

"I like him very much," he says with a smile, "and I like you too, Fraulein."

"Ariana!" cries Aberforth, running up to meet them. "Where on earth did you go?" he asks, and makes a face as he catches a whiff of the muck that covers her head to toe. "Where are your robes? And why are you covered in mud?"

"I decided that this old hollow tree would be a nice place to go exploring in," she says, as Albus suddenly shows up out of nowhere. "The robes, I lost somewhere down there. Don't know where. I suspect that my outdoors privileges are revoked now."

"Too right they are," says Albus in his most dignified voice.

"Thank you for your help," she says to him.

He is surprised, naturally. "What help?"

"Perhaps we shall return now," she suggests.

Albus gets to work after they return home, putting up spells and wards around their house. Much to her dismay, Ariana finds that it is now impossible to leave the house unaccompanied. She knows she deserves _some_ punishment for scaring her brothers like that. She only wishes that it could be less damaging to her plans.

Gellert soon becomes a frequent visitor. Albus locks her up in her room at first, and she does not mind. A bit of peace and neglect is wonderful for devising ways around the spells. But he soon forgets to, and pays no attention to anyone but his friend. Aberforth says that Albus has forgotten about her.

Ariana is surprised. She did not realize that Gellert is _so very_ interesting. She listens in on their conversations sometimes. What they discuss is not much to her liking. They speak of what should and would happen in the world, far too broad a scope for her. She finds it difficult to dream for herself now, much less for other people. But that it was the very _brilliant_ dream of, she guesses.

That word she dislikes comes up often now. Aberforth uses it a lot. That is a surprise, since she knows that he dislikes it too. He comes into her room sometimes and tries to read to her when Gellert is visiting, but she can see that his mind is elsewhere. Hers is as well, but she listens out of politeness.

She learns one afternoon that Gellert knows all about her condition. Aberforth rages at their brother for telling him, but Albus is calm as ever. Gellert wants to help, he says. He asks about her daily. With his help, they can perhaps keep things under control the next time it happens. Albus states this as a matter of fact. There is no problem that the two of them cannot conquer, together.

That only reminds her of her own problems. Why can't she use magic against her brother's magic, she wonders. That question soon leads to other questions. Why did she never go to Hogwarts, like her brothers? She cannot remember, so she knows that it is a secret that they are purposely hiding from her.

She tries to use magic, but finds that she cannot, and any attempt at it will cause her to feel unbearably afraid. She tries to rage against it like Aberforth would, but succeeds only in shattering her windows. She feels like she is going mad, with so many locked doors and dead ends in her mind. But maybe she already is mad and that is what the Memory Charms are supposed to make her forget.

She is sitting by her window and staring at nothing in particular when Aberforth barges in. He is in a foul mood and mutters to himself about irresponsible brothers. "Gellert is here?" she asks.

"But of course," he snaps. "He's out back with Albus. They're having duels for fun instead of plotting to rule the world for a change."

"Who's winning?"

"Don't know. Didn't bother to watch."

"Can I go outside and watch? It sounds exciting."

She watches as he seems to struggle between his repugnance of all things Gellert and his wish to make his little sister happy. "Fine, but only for a short while!" he says grudgingly.

"Thank you!" she exclaims, and follows him outside.

It feels wonderful to be outside again. The air is so fresh and the duel so mesmerizing. She watches with rapt attention, almost forgetting why she wanted to come outside in the first place. Besides, it would be a bit much to hope that Aberforth falls asleep yet again.

"Do you think the Muggles will notice?" she asks Aberforth as the spectacular light show shoots sparks up into the clouds.

"Oh I'm sure those two figured something out. Anti-Muggle charms over the entire back lot, probably."

"Which house would I be in if I went to Hogwarts?" she wonders aloud.

"Probably Ravenclaw," he replies, after a pause.

It seems a pleasant enough answer. "Why?" she asks.

"Because you're too good for Gryffindor."

"Albus would skin you if he heard that," she laughs.

"I'm not afraid of him."

"Me neither, I think."

Aberforth looks away.

"What does a bolt of red light do?" she asks as she sees Albus deflect three in a row.

"It's a stunning spell, renders one unconscious."

"That's interesting. What would yellow light do?"

He laughs. "I don't think I know any spell that makes yellow light."

"Blue light?"

"Hmm, I know how to make blue flames, and that's about it."

"What about green light?"

His face falls. "Why do you ask?"

"Green is my favorite color."

He looks uneasily over to where his brother has finally won the duel, and says quietly, "Don't tell Albus I told you this. Green light is what the Killing Curse makes."

"Oh, I see." She hopes she never sees the green light then.

Nights in Godric's Hollow are always quiet. Albus is over at Mrs. Bagshot's house for dinner. Ariana doesn't know much about Mrs. Bagshot, other than that she's a nosy lady who her mother didn't particularly like. Aberforth is busy writing essays. She puts her ear against the wall and hears the scratch of his quill on parchment, punctuated by a few angry mutters about how useless history of magic is. She sits back and lets her mind wander.

"Have you forgotten us, your highness?"

She jumps up as she hears the low voice of the faun. He stands before her, life-size and very out of place inside her neat little room. "No," she whispers, hoping Aberforth isn't listening. "I couldn't leave the house. My brother wouldn't let me."

"Do you have the key?"

"Yes," she says, taking it out of her pocket.

"Good. You'll need it for the second task." He hands her a piece of chalk. "If no doors open for you, then make your own door."

"What am I supposed to do for the second task?" she asks, but he has already disappeared.

The door creaks open and Aberforth sticks his head in. "Who are you talking to?" he asks.

"Myself. When will our brother come home?"

He shrugs. "He should be home already. I guess _someone_ is keeping him again."

"I think I'll go to sleep now," she says, yawning. "Good night."

"Good night, Ariana."

The door clicks shut. She waits until she can hear quill scratching against parchment again before removing the chalk from her pocket. It feels smooth and hard to the touch, so unlike her beloved crayons. Albus probably wouldn't be home for hours. What better time to test it?

She finds a bare spot on her walls, not drawn on with crayon, and traces the outline of a door. The edges glow slightly, and the wall pushes inward at the slightest touch. Through her newly made door is not the garden outside, but a long, curving hallway whose end she cannot see. The air that flows into her room is fresh and slightly chilly. So this is the second task, then? She wonders what sort of monster must lurk at the other end of that beautiful, yet cold hallway.

Her footsteps echo slightly as she walks along on that polished marble. She reminds herself to never show fear, no matter what. A large, sumptuously-laid feast comes into view, and a monster sits at the head of the table, all wrinkled skin and deformed body. The ceilings here are painted with murals of the monster devouring unfortunate children, and a pile of discarded shoes lies next to the table. It reminds her of the story of the boy and the magical lamp, where he must pass through caverns of gold and silver un-tempted.

She sees three little doors at one side of the room, each with keyholes. She tries the right-hand door. It refuses to budge, same with the left-hand one. The middle is the only one left, and it clicks open. She reaches inside and pulls out a breathtakingly beautiful crown. She has a vague inkling as to whose it belongs to.

There is a sudden scraping of nails on wood behind her. She spins around, and sees with a rush of horror that the monster has awoken. It picks up its eyes and turns around to look at her, while she is almost rooted to the spot in fear. Of course there are no magic stones this time, no trick that will defeat the horror.

_You have to do magic_, a voice in her head tells Ariana. "No!" she cries out. "I can't!" _You must_, the voice insists. _Or you will never leave this place._

She takes a few steps back, as the monster stands up and starts to advance on her. Its movements are clumsy, but its malice is clear. "No, no, no…" she cries, her panic rising by the second. She feels the familiar fluttering in her heart, the pounding in her head, and the uncontrollable waves of power within her. Her knees feel weak and she starts to sink to the floor.

_Control it_, the voice tells her. _Channel it. Use it. Before the pain begins._ Ariana is beyond all conscious thought now, and beyond fear. Summoning all her might, she directs all the power through her hands and releases it, the force of which flings the monster across the room, where it crashes against the wall. Her legs are suddenly unfrozen and she runs for the door.

She does not notice, until she is through and leaning against the wall where the door was, that her hands are raw and bleeding. The key has disappeared, and the crown is still clean as snow and entirely untouched by the blood. She places it on the window ledge and tries to find something to bandage her hands with. Her fingers fumble and she shakes uncontrollably. So she finally knows what using magic feels like. She hopes she never has to use it again.

"Lovely, you have the crown." The faun is back.

She picks it up and hands it to him. It melts away into air in his hands. "Now for the final task. Opening the portal to Faerie requires the sacrifice of an innocent life."

"What do you mean?" she whispers.

"An innocent must die," he simply replies.

She cannot believe her ears. "You want me to kill someone? Please, have mercy on me," she begs him. "I can't…I just can't…"

"Your time is running out. You have until the summer fades," he says before he fades back into shadow.

"Are you talking to yourself again?" Aberforth asks as he opens the door. His breath catches as he sees her hands. "Merlin's nipple," he swears under his breath. "What happened to your hands?"

"I did magic," she says weakly, before everything goes black.

When her hands are still bandaged and very painful days later, Ariana knows that they will never be whole again. The pain does not bother her much. She is too preoccupied with other things. She wonders what sort of world would require the sacrifice of a life to return to, and if it is truly better than this one. But then she knows that any world would be better than one where she lives in constant fear of killing the ones she loves. Her life is not so much a waking dream as it is a nightmare.

Albus is still never at home much. She is happy for him. She hopes he stays away, so he can be safe. The faun said that her time is running out, that she has only until the summer fades. What will happen after that, she wonders. She knows that she cannot complete the final task. She will simply have to live out this nightmare that will never end.

She is alone at home that night when there is a knock at the door. Aberforth is gone in search of their brother, for what he calls a "serious talk." She debates not answering the door. Aberforth did not leave any instructions as to what to do, since nobody ever calls on them, except for Gellert. The knock is louder the second time. She sighs and goes to the door. A distraction might be nice.

It is Gellert, and he is alone. "Where are my brothers?" she asks.

"Still arguing at my great-aunt's house. May I come in?"

She shrugs and steps aside. It seems unusual that he would slip out of an argument that is about him, but she makes no comment about it.

"So, Fraulein, I was wondering if you could answer a question for me," he says as she shows him into the sitting room.

"Is this supposed to be a _serious talk_?" she asks.

"Yes, very serious."

"I've never had one of those before," she observes.

Gellert smiles. "How long do you have to live?"

It is an interesting question, one which nobody has ever asked before. "I do not know. Do you?"

"I do not," he says, "but I would give much to know."

"Why?"

"Because you are all that is holding him back," he says, and she does not need to ask who he is referring to.

"I don't want to hold him back," she says truthfully.

"Good!" he exclaims happily. "So we are in agreement."

"But what would you have me do?"

"That is up to you, Ariana, and your conscience. Your brother has the potential to become one of the greatest wizards of all time, but he has to stay here in this little village, and look after you. It is such a _waste_, don't you agree?"

A few tears trickle down her face. "Do you think I _enjoy_ being a burden?" she whispers.

"No, but your actions seem to say otherwise."

"I have a chance for another life," she cries, the tears flowing freely now, "but I can't do it."

"What is it? Perhaps I can help," he offers.

She does not know why she is telling him this, but the words still tumble out of her mouth. "I am a princess of Faerie, and I can't return home without the sacrifice of an innocent life."

Gellert smiles at her. "How interesting. I didn't know that Faerie exists outside of stories."

"Muggles don't know that our world exists outside of stories, so does that mean it doesn't?" she retorts.

"Well spoken." He nods and seems to consider her situation. "What if I help you, my princess?"

"How can you help me?"

He leans in a little bit and looks her in the eye. "I will deliver you that innocent life. You can then return to your land, and Albus and I will be free to pursue our goals."

"You'll kill someone for me?" she gasps.

"For the greater good, of course," he replies, and kisses her.

Ariana does not know what is happening, except that she is crying harder now. The front door swings open, and Gellert quickly backs away from her.

Aberforth comes into the room and sees her tears. "What did you do to my sister?" he demands. He spins around and shouts at his brother, who follows him in, "What did you let him do to Ariana?"

Albus ignores him and takes her by the arm. "I think it's best if you return to your room now," he says softly.

The door closes on her again, and she hears her brother lock it with a spell. She cannot stop crying. What has she done? She should not have told Gellert about her task. She cannot believe her folly. Nobody should have to die for her, or waste away their lives looking after her.

The shouts outside grow in volume. Her panic starts to rise as well. _I am not afraid_, she tells herself, but she cannot help feeling that something terrible will happen if the argument goes on. And it will all be because of her.

But what can she do? The door is locked. Her hands twinge with pain beneath their bandages as she thinks of using magic again. Her mind starts to wander. _When no doors open for you, make your own door._ The chalk is buried under a pile of crayons. She picks it up, fumbling as she tries to hold it with her bandaged fingers. She grips it too tight, and it breaks into two.

Wiping away her tears, she sets to work tracing a door on the wall. The brittle chalk crumbles to dust as she drags it down on the wall, and she spreads the dust over the wall with the tips of her fingers. The edges glow, and she pushes it open and steps into an open duel.

It all seems to somehow happen in slow motion for her. None of them notice that she is now in the room, but she can see the bolts of green light that erupt from three wands, and she follows them with her eyes and sees where they will strike. Two will miss, and the third will hit Aberforth. She finally realizes what that means. Aberforth is supposed to be her sacrifice, so she can live happily ever after. Aberforth, who loves and cares for her above everyone else.

Ariana does not need to think twice to know what to do. She steps in front of that green light, and admires its color. It is beautiful, she thinks, like emerald jade. She has a vague memory of grasshoppers flitting about in an emerald jade garden. She is happy that her brothers spared her that memory.

She can see the soft white light behind her eyelids as she wakes up. She blinks once or twice, and sees an unclouded blue sky.

"Arise, my daughter," says a gentle voice.

A white citadel on a hill unfolds beneath her feet as she stands up and looks out of her tower room. Beyond that, there is a far green country beneath a golden sun. She turns to face the speaker and sees an old man with a long white beard and twinkling blue eyes, dressed in long green robes, as is she. He looks much like how Albus might look one day, and has the warmth that Aberforth will always possess.

The faun stands at his side, the crown in his hands. "Yours was the only innocent life," he says to her, and she understands. "Welcome home, your highness."

Fin

* * *

A/N:

A few notes -  
Yes, I realize the bugs in Pan's Labyrinth weren't really grasshoppers. I tried to look up what they were, and all I got was "stick bug," which looks a bit weird if you write it into a fic. I'm pretty bug-challenged, so I just went with grasshoppers.

I changed some of the scenes around a bit, such as the Pale Man's feast, because Ariana, as I saw her, isn't Ofelia and her demons are mostly in her head.

Otherwise, this fic was a lot of fun to write and I'd like to thank omniocular for providing such an awesome challenge!

Comments and concrit are love.


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